


The Lace that Holds Us

by Speckeh



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Communication, Day dreaming of Bondage, Established Relationship, Eventual Sex, Feel-good, Fluff, Frottage, Grinding, Intercrural Sex, Lingerie, Lots of laughing, M/M, No Feminization, Panties, Rimming, light but sexy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-02-15 22:59:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13041285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Speckeh/pseuds/Speckeh
Summary: After years of living in Skyhold and having The Iron Bull as his lover, Dorian is in dire need of underwear that doesn't have a function other than to look pretty on him. But he's nervous. The Iron Bull fell in love with him in the nitty gritty, in blood, war, and dragon slime. Will he like Dorian in something less than practical and far more indulging?





	1. Let's Talk

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PeriPeriwinkle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeriPeriwinkle/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is fic was split into three parts as the lack of transitions made it seem awkward with such big jumps! This chapter and the next are considered more fluff than anything. The third chapter is fully explicit!

Skyhold had barely begun to warm with the breach closed. The slight green flashes in the sky, the fortress finally having finished all its extensive interior and exterior construction, the snow finally starting to melt, though the bitter air still stung in the early mornings. With the new and more pleasant weather came the no longer need for long underwear in bed, or the constant fireplaces burning to generate even just a spark of heat. People could wear more stylized pajamas, be more… adventurous. 

A political delegation called the Inquisitor to Val Royeaux for a few days. They opened an invitation to any and all companions to join them to bask in warmer sunshine and fancier food than what their cooks could fashion with their great numbers. Dorian was one of the first to sign up, Vivienne and Varric were happy to go along, and The Iron Bull joined at the last possible minute (he had run out of horn balm and preferred a particular brand, also spending a few days with Dorian away from everyone seemed like a good idea). Though Dorian seemed to be buzzing with nervous energy around The Iron Bull, as if he wasn’t particularly happy with the idea of his lover coming along. 

Traveling with the Inquisitor and Vivienne certainly had its perks. Vivienne was quick to send them to the best lodging in Val Royeaux fixed with as many servants they couldn’t possibly use during the trip and gluttonous, luxurious food to fill their bellies to the point of painful breathing. Dorian and The Iron Bull were sharing a room, Dorian’s room to be precisely. The larger male certainly had his own board during the delegations, but it would be nice to sleep in a bed not too cramped or Dorian whining about the cold draft at night (though the hole had been long fixed) for a change. It was spacious, the bed big enough to hold three sleeping Bulls with flowing pink curtains, gold encrusted standing mirrors, a wardrobe wider than the qunari and a large fireplace with a silk soft rug they could lounge or fuck on. 

Dorian was still acting strange come the second night. Their first night was filled with tired kisses, worn hands running down scarred bodies, Dorian’s exhausted giggles and The Iron Bull’s heated grunts. But Dorian’s body seemed to shake with whatever illease had settled in that pretty little mind of his. He wasn’t as attentive nor as reactive as Bull remembers, or expects. Whatever was troubling Dorian, was troubling The Iron Bull as well. 

The third day of Dorian behaving strangely was the final straw for Bull. He waited in Dorian’s room, sitting on his bed, knowing he’d return any minute with a bag full of replenished kohl and perhaps new literature on time magic, or whatever author was the hottest in Orlais. The door opened without a sound and Dorian looked slightly surprised but not truly. Walking into a room where The Iron Bull was waiting for him usually led to more… entertaining encounters, but he could sense the other’s tense body and his own tensed in heart pounding anxiety suddenly swelling in him. 

“Alright big guy, you going to tell me what’s going on? I would ask if you have some boy you’re seeing, but your type of nervousness isn’t the cheating kind.” The Iron Bull looked at Dorian expectedly. Having been reluctant acquaintances, annoyed partners, and finally lovers through the last two years gave them a sense of ease, Dorian’s body was even easier to read and Dorian wasn’t too shabby with reading Bull’s carefully guarded movements. 

The half dragon tooth felt heavy against Dorian’s chest, buckled safely underneath his clothes. “Well, thank you for having the decency to not accuse me.” he replied stiffly, setting his bag of beloved products on a side table decorated with lace gold doilies and fresh blood lotus in a porcelain blue vase. “I’d rather not have some silly servant hearing that conversation and spreading it to the rest of Val Royeaux. I don’t need anyone thinking you might be available.” 

“Pfft, like that hasn’t stopped them before. You’re stalling Dorian.” The Iron Bull frowned a little, noticing the way Dorian wrung his hands together. “Shit, someone didn’t die or anything big?” 

“What? No, I-” Dorian groaned, stopping his hands and twirled an end of his moustache. “It’s nothing so serious. Though in Tevinter it is a serious matter. Having the right style and fabric could mean rising up politically, buy your supplies with the wrong seller and suddenly your good wine is poisoned, and such a waste of good wine.” 

“If you’re complaining about the ropes I use back in Skyhold, you should have mentioned it sooner. I could use some of that silky black thing you like to wear. Might feel nice on your skin, will feel better on my teeth when I-” 

Dorian raised an eyebrow, looking some what amused which was better than the horrid nervous energy. Like any good session, he just needed to warm up to the idea of it first. Let his muscles loosen and take that extra inch before he broke out into that mindless babble. Shit, he might have to go find some silk rope. Surely they had all sorts here, perhaps a black… green… no, _pink._

“Having fun Amatus?”  
“Hm?” The Iron Bull began to laugh, surprised at himself. “I haven’t wandered off during a serious conversation for awhile.”  
“Is this a serious conversation?”  
“Perhaps, not a lot in this world makes you feel unnerved like this.”  


“Andraste’s tits, it’s… I like nice things.” Dorian began.  
“I think that’s a given big guy.”  
“Don’t interrupt. I like nice things. Nice, big men, pleasant conversation, books, Orlais’ wine.”  
“Mh. Doesn’t beat that shit back at Skyhold.”  
“Yes, if you like damaging your throat. I said no interrupting. I like, beautiful clothing. Skyhold’s been freezing every inch of me since I decided to live there. Long, wool pajamas that itch like Skyhold made them out of potato sacks. I like silk, soft-”  
“Like those little underthings you left-”  
“Yes, exactly so. But it seems someone ruined my last pair a few months ago and my poor skin is rubbed raw with that hideous and barbaric underthings Skyhold likes to call underwear. You owe me several new pairs… and that’s not all I want.”  


The Iron Bull’s eye narrowed for a moment before widening in surprise and he broke out in a large laugh. “Shit, yeah? You’d look damn hot in the Orlais’ panties. What, you want a full set? Stockings, garters, maybe one of those that has your ass cut out for easy access? Is that what you’ve been worried about? Telling me you like the more nonfunctional underthings?” 

Dorian flushed a warm heat, relaxing more which gave The Iron Bull all he needed to know before he spoke. “You’re not… turned off by it?”  
“Kadan, do I look like I’m turned off by you in sexier garments?”  
“You’re turned on when I stink of fish and dragon’s breath. I thought you liked the more rugged side of it all.”  
The Iron Bull growled, remembering when they fought the Emprise Du Lion High Dragon, how they all stunk of sulphuric, how Dorian smelled particularly potent of dragon after harvesting the beast’s organs and teeth. “I like you in everything, Dorian.” 

Dorian rolled his eyes but seemed to be thriving under all of Bull’s affection. He always blossomed underneath Bull’s words and warmth. “Yes, I know _that_ A little too well might I add. But do you like me in softer things? Things, might I warn you, you cannot rip to shreds at the first proper use of them.” 

The Iron Bull stood and sauntered to Dorian, backing up the mage who snorted a laugh though his green eyes were quickly dilating. The mage’s back hit the door, the warrior’s large and powerful hands bracing on either side of his head and leaned in. Dorian felt his knees buckles and his throat grow dry. “How about I show you just what I think about you in delicate and expensive underthings, _Kadan._ ”  
Dorian gave another aroused giggle, closing his eyes, “Well, what are you waiting for, Amatus? A formal invitation?”  


“Might be nice, Kadan.” The Iron Bull chuckled as he grabbed Dorian by the hips and slid him up the door. _“Might be nice.”_ he whispered in Dorian’s neck who wrapped his legs tight around Bull’s bulking waist in reply.


	2. Measurements

Standing in one of the more reputable tailors in Orlais’ shops (one Vivienne insistent they go to and one Dorian already knew he was going to spend good money in), Dorian was currently standing on a pedestal in front of four ornate mirrors, the tailor working quickly to take every measurement of the mage’s body. The Iron Bull sat on the floor, relaxing on hundreds of pillows. He did wish there was a bench he could slouch in as he knew his knee would be killing him and make him ungraceful as he tried to pull himself up on the floor with his brace. At least the fancy squares were comfortable. 

Dorian stood in his smalls, skin a perfect sandalwood hue with few white healed scars scattered along his body, one arm tanned darker than the other, his ass in optimal view for Bull’s one eye. It wasn’t sexual to watch his lover in the near nude with someone else touching his body. If Dorian had shown any signs of shyness, The Iron Bull would have left. If this might have been on his sexual lists, only then it would send a thrill down Bull’s spine. Instead, Pavus was in his element and finally relaxed after a week of worried tension. Though The Iron Bull certainly enjoyed the eye candy. 

“Perfect measurements Master Pavus.” The tailor seemed thrilled, not smiling behind her golden mask, the feathers in her hair occasionally tickling Dorian’s thigh as she measured his ankles.   
“As expected. I wasn’t bred for perfection to _not_ be perfection.” Dorian preened with the compliment but Bull sensed a slight distasted for the reminder of being Mummy and Daddy’s perfect boy. His right little pinky always twitched with those memories. 

“What materials were you hoping for, Master Pavus? We have the best silk from the Imperium if you wish to browse it. I also managed to find a breeder for golden spider silk if you desire something exotic. But you can never go wrong with my own cotton, which I soak in a delectable wine from Orzammar. It shines with a gorgeous, soft pink and it will hug perfectly around your body.”   
A little grunt came from the heap that was Bull and Dorian tried his best not to laugh. 

“Oh yes, to be graced with a set from your speciality Madam, would be most wonderful. But I would like to see your other wares, I have intentions to run a bill high enough to make the Inquisitor’s head spin. Skyhold will be jealous of your glorious touches on my perfect body.” Dorian hummed, crossing his arms and held his chin with his right, his left held his elbow as he admired himself in the mirror and no doubted imagined what he would look like in expensive frivolous clothes once more. 

“Of course Master Pavus. I am honored to have your patronage.” The tailor stood up, retracting her measuring tape and gave a light bow of her head. “If you would be so kind as to wait while I draw up the plans for your clothing. If you desire anything, call for Cosette.” and with that she disappeared through the curtains into her back room. 

Dorian stepped off the pedestal and plucked the two crystal drinking glasses waiting for them on a golden tray encrusted with emeralds and rubies. He turned towards The Iron Bull and smiled, strolling towards his lounging lover and handed him the second glass. It smelled of cranberries, lemon, and something too fancy but would ruin the delicate flavors in the name for opulence. “You’re looking good up there big guy.” The Iron Bull spoke first, their fingers brushing as he took his glass. 

“Wait till you see the finished product. I’ll be a sight to see! Perhaps we can muster a game of Wicked Grace and I can purposefully lose to show off my new wares.” Dorian nudged for Bull to straighten his legs (which he did) and draped himself across the larger male’s lap. Pavus’ right arm wrapped around Bull’s broad shoulders and thick neck, his left still holding his drink. “Thank you for coming with me.” 

“And miss the free show?” The Iron Bull grinned, downing his drink and scrunching his face. “Why do these Orleasian’s always have to ruin good wine. Adding shit like truffle or deep mushrooms just because it’s hard to get, don’t they realize it’s horrible?” he grumbled, setting the glass down and wrapped an arm lazily around Dorian’s hip, his larger hand sprawled against the warmth of his bare lower back.   
“Hm. It’s not that bad. Don’t get me wrong, it’s horrible but it’s not the worst I’ve had here.” Dorian replied, his own face scrunching up as well and set his glass down too. At least the heat of the alcohol was pleasant enough in his throat. “And do you really see this as a show?” his free left hand now played with Bull’s other dragon tooth half, tracing around the sides and tugging on the leather straps. 

The Iron Bull thought for a moment, either choosing his words carefully or thinking about Dorian’s question. “I like looking at you. But I think you would have already known if I get off on you being measured for panties.”   
Dorian snorted, leaning forward and kissing Bull’s cheek. “Good answer Amatus.”   
“Now, the _real_ show will be when you get those little silky underthings and wear them to our room. I’m gonna slide my-” 

“Master Pavus, Master The Iron Bull, I have a few sketches of your designs if you would like to approve of them.” Madam Tailor reappeared, not even making a gasping noise, nor did her heels step back in alarm of her guests suddenly snuggled tight together in her shop. She approached them, her heels clacking in a powerful stride and held the clipboard of her many sketches out for the two of them. Dorian took it with a quick thank you and Bull’s free hand helped flipped through the pages. 

“Are they to your liking?” She asked after an appropriate amount of time. 

Dorian grinned, “I’ll take three of each.” 


	3. Pretty In Pink

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is rated Explicit!!

Enjoying the goods from Orlais’ tailor shop wouldn’t happen for a whole month. During the time of waiting, they had returned to Skyhold, Dorian and Bull were back to a regular schedule of fucking and having quality time when they had a bit of time to breathe. It felt nice. The Inquisition was a powerful force to reckon with, the time of healing had begun, and everyone was only just beginning to think where they wanted to go. Some people wanted to stay, having found a voice and reason with Skyhold and their beloved Inquisitor. Others had already left, like Cole, Solas, and Blackwall. But The Iron Bull? Well, the Chargers were talking about disbanding. And while Bull was not keen on losing his boys, a part of him was relieved. He wouldn’t have to pretend they were conveniently following Dorian just because he knew a part of him didn’t ever want to leave Dorian. If he could somehow keep the two together, Bull thought that that might be what heaven is like, or at least may be like from Mother Giselle’s sermons in the garden. 

The Iron Bull was in his usual seat, nursing a tankard of the hard liquor from Cabot’s secret stash when Dorian stopped by the open tavern door. The slight sparkle in his eyes was all he needed to know. Bull threw back the last of his drink, coughing a bit as it stung all the way down, and eagerly pushed himself on two feet.  
“Should I say goodnight Boss?” Krem asked with a knowing smirk.   
“Why don’t you go ask your pretty girlfriend out for a walk, eh Kremmy? Maybe get her to sing a prettier tune while you strum her guitar for a bit.” he raised an eyebrow at his boy and broke out into a big grin himself. Oh tonight was going to be a delight.

Dorian had a few seconds of a start but Bull was quick to follow him up the stairs to his private quarters. He was half way up the second set when he saw Dorian’s bedroom door close, an excitement blossoming in his barreled chest. What would they look like? Was he already wearing a set? Maybe he was waiting for Bull to crack open the wooden crate and pick the first outfit. Shit, shit, he’ll pick out that little pink number, he’ll look stunning, with his ass hugged. Bull took two steps at a time and knew he should have been ashamed with how excited he was over Dorian wearing lingerie, but damn it all.

Bull threw open the door without a knock, trying not to flare his nostrils as Dorian faked turning around in surprise. The little shit. His singular eye swept across the room, noticing the large chest that had been carried up to Dorian’s room no more than 2 hours ago. “Are you wearing one already?” The Iron Bull tried not to moan, stepping in and closing the door with a little more force than anticipated. “Would you like to see for yourself?” Dorian was quick to banter back with a sly smirk.   
“Fuck you’re wearing one. Which one is it? The green one? Or the red with transparent lace? Dorian, if it’s the pink number I can’t promise I won’t rip your damn clothes off.”   
“And I repeat, would you like to see for yourself?” 

Dorian laughed as The Iron Bull’s hands were rough and greedy in grabbing him around his waist. The mage was yanked forward, their chests bumping, dragon teeth brushing against each other. Bull dived down as Dorian leaned up, their kiss harsh and a touch dry, the Tal-Vashoth warrior leading their kiss in his frantic greed. Pavus tried not to shiver as Bull’s fingers began to slip underneath his tunic, trying to worm under the many fabrics of his outfit and feel either lace or skin. 

They fumbled together for several minutes, Bull working his fingers underneath layers with their mouths bumped, bit, and Dorian busing himself shoving his tongue down his throat. Dorian’s arms were wrapped tight around the other’s neck, squeezing him every so often, Bull’s large hands feeling up his body in warming up passions. The mage moaned quietly, biting the other’s large jawline and growling softly. “Would you hurry up-” he was interrupted with his own yelp. A loud snap echoed through the room as Bull finally felt stretchy elastic and had snapped it against Dorian’s skin. _“It’s the pink set.”_

The Iron Bull’s deep, growling voice had full body shivers wracking Dorian’s body. He couldn’t help more nervous aroused giggles as he was suddenly turned around and pushed to fall sideways on his bed. Bull’s hands were quick to follow, fingers expertly unlatching familiar straps until his tunic was free. Bull threw the top over his shoulder, pushing Dorian’s boots off with his own and hands grabbed two fist fulls of his trousers and yanked them down his shapely legs. Dorian heard the flare of Bull’s nostrils, felt the room shift into heavy arousal as he lay for his viewing pleasure. 

The delicate pink cotton was more like invisible lace on Dorian’s skin. His legs were covered in a silky soft cream pink that Bull ran his fingers against between his inner thighs. Their design was sewn with meticulous gold that shimmer as he moved, flowers, spirals, little droplets all hand stitched for many weeks. Bull’s hands cupped Dorian’s thigh and followed the shape of his body upwards, thumb brushing the underside of his ass and over his new set of panties. These too were more lace than cotton, they would do nothing to keep him warm in any situation. They hugged his ass perfectly, accentuating the natural bubble curve, an adorable heart cut out and framed his cheeks. Bull’s hot breath washed over his exposed skin and he squirmed, his own cock hard and dripping, soaking the front. 

The thumbs felt the metal clasps keep his stockings up, a steadfast and breathable strap hugging Dorian’s trim hips. His heart was already pounding in his chest, excitement tingling his body as he buried his face in his bed and tried to calm down himself. “Fuck Dorian, you’re the sexiest man I’ve ever laid my eye on.” Bull growled again, wanting to palm himself through his parachute pants but didn’t want to stop stroking the delicate piece in awe. “I should get some for myself.” Dorian laughed once more into the sheets.   
“Oh yes, what a pair we’ll be.” He said, mouthful of blankets. 

Dorian yelped, toes curling in his stockings as Bull spread his cheeks eagerly with his thumbs and felt the rumble of the warrior behind him kneeling on the stone floor. “Amatus, your knee-”   
“Yeah, yeah.” The other brushed off eagerly, his words against the right of Dorian’s cheek. He kissed the smooth flesh and then repeated the same on the other, thumbs still keeping him spread. And then that long, well endowed qunari tongue gave the first anticipated lick over his entire pucker and Dorian about exploded in magical energy and cum. 

The mage curled his hands into his blankets, twisting his head to lay his cheek flat and gasped out a moan. No matter how many times Bull rimmed him out, the initial touch and reminder of how long it was always sent his stomach boiling in frantic need. “Fuck yeah, you used that oil I like too. You thought of everything big guy.” The bed jostled and Dorian grinned, Bull was rubbing himself against the edge of his bed. 

Dorian spread his knees wider, accommodating The Iron Bull and eagerly pressed back against his tongue. “Of course. I didn’t know what to expect, well.. I did. But I didn’t know which version of - ohh, Andraste's tits this is _good_ \- you I would have- fuck, do that again!!” he gasped, eyes fluttering shut, wanting to palm himself but not wanting to end this too soon. Dorian jerked his hips forward as he felt the tip of Bull’s tongue slip inside. 

He always loved the slow slide and subtle girth of Bull’s tongue splitting him open. His tongue curling inside, moving in waves to have his whole body shaking in mind numbing pleasure. His heartbeat was pounding in his navel, subtly shoving his hips back to fuck himself on that wiggling muscle. “Fuck, fuck, Bull!” Dorian whined but his only reply was his lover groaning, thumbs pulling him wider and feeling his chin brush against the backside of his balls. 

They stayed like this for... Dorian couldn’t remember for how long. His throat strained with the constant moans Bull worked out of him, hands cramping from their death grip in his bedsheets, toes constantly curling and uncurling in his new stockings. He let out a gasp of relief but shoved his hips back in futile hope when Bull finally removed his tongue. Those large hands grasped Dorian’s hips and flipped him over, the mage’s hands quickly shooting between his legs and yanked those parachute trousers off Bull’s hips. 

The qunari dick was large and imposing, hard but curved downward from the heft of his member. Dorian’s head swarmed in heavy arousal, knowing that part of Bull all too well, his body seemed to remember just as much as he subtly squirmed his hips. “Damn you’re handsome.” The Iron Bull rumbled out, leaning down to pepper kisses along Dorian’s lips and neck. “Fucking glorious, that’s what you are.” He snapped the garter elastic again earning him another yelp and a slap to his shoulder. 

“If you’re going to fuck me, do so quickly. I’m losing patience Bull.” Dorian narrowed his eyes, a slight hiss on the tip of his tongue. Bull placed a warm, large grey hand on the man’s stomach, spreading his fingers and dragged down, bumping his navel and palmed the silky panties holding the hard cock restrained.  
“Oh I think I will, just not our usual way.” 

The Iron Bull stepped out of his pants, left only in his bracers, having forgo his underwear in this morning dress. He noticed the slip of Dorian’s tongue wetting his own lips and chuckled. “Patience, Kadan.” he teased. The response was a annoyed huff Bull ignored. With a soft and deep hum, Bull lifted the bottom right leg hole of Dorian’s panties and slipped his cock underneath. 

“B-Bull, don’t you dare rip it! This was expensive!” Dorian tried to complain but found himself breathing heavier, looking down and admiring the stark grey showing through the pink lace against his warm brown skin.   
“I’ll buy you three more pairs.” The Iron Bull replied and gave his first testing thrust, groaning with delight from Dorian’s flushed soft skin and the silky fabric friction against his cock.   
“I-I’m warning you! It took a whole month for me to- oh! Oh, that.. That is nice.” Dorian licked his lips again, hands coming up to grip Bull’s shoulders.

They fell into wordless moans. The bed groaning as Bull rutted against thigh and fabric, his blunt fingernails digging into the mattress, head tipping down, horns occasionally scraping against stone. Dorian’s hands traveled everywhere on Bull’s body. Up and down his powerful arms, squeezing around his neck, playing with grey scarred chests, gripping those horns and yanking him for needy nips and kisses. Though his favorite was to tip his chin to his chest and watch the head of Bull’s cock fuck against Dorian’s thigh, head popping out the top of his lacy panties with each thrust forward. 

Dorian keened as he shifted his hips, the next of Bull’s thrusts sliding his length against his own and along his stomach. This was his favorite. The mage propped his feet on the bed, closing his legs together to give Bull a tighter space to fuck into. The warrior moaned as if he were dying in ecstasy and his hands left the bed to grip Dorian’s hip and ass in a bruising hold as he eagerly fucked forward. 

They melted into hard pants, little gasps of names, Dorian’s bed sliding against the stone floor. Dorian’s hands grew even more wild in their touching of Bull, palms heating up in passionate magic trickling out of his body in their excitement. Sweat was dripping from both their bodies, Dorian’s back hot from the friction against his sheet, Bull’s forehead breaking out as he focused on honing his thrusts in a hard pace. 

The Iron Bull was the first to reach his orgasm. The head of his cock spurting when it popped out the top of Dorian’s panties, spraying up his stomach and spilling the rest of it inside the fabric as he pulled back. The see-through pink lace no longer see-through but slimy white from Bull covering both the fabric and Dorian’s hard cock with his release. Dorian came next, both from the stimulation against his cock but also the mere sight of Bull filling his panties with his cum. They both shook, Dorian’s arms a death grip around Bull’s neck as the two lay together, chest to chest, stomach to stomach. The mage’s legs finally fell open to accommodate his lover’s girth. 

They stayed together for long moments, lazily kissing one another, Bull purring in Dorian’s ear. The years of hard work in stopping the end of the world was well worth this moment of utter bliss. 

Dorian suddenly groaned, a firm frown on his face. “You owe me another pair Amatus. You’ll never come out of these! They must be already stained!”  
The Iron Bull laughed deep and loud, slipping his hands underneath Dorian’s back and squeezed the smaller mage against him. “I’ll buy you 5 crates of them, Kadan.”  
“Yes, you better have!” The mage argued but quickly lost himself as The Iron Bull silenced him with a large and bone melting kiss. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed Gobetti! Happy Holidays!!!


End file.
